Samoan Bus Ride (something like a "chicken bus")

You haven’t lived until you have been on a Samoan bus ride.  First we waited for five hours, after reaching a consensus of talking to locals all over Savai’I (the Samoan big island) that the bus came at around noon, for a bus that almost didn’t come.  Fortunately the wait was next to a “Fish and Chips, Chicken and Chips, Burger and Chips” stand and I went for the “Whopper” (a cheese burger with an egg on top).  Hadn’t eaten beef in almost two weeks, so I was happy.  When the bus did show up, I didn’t want to get onto the 1950 scrap heap, capacity 40 with 80 big Samoans already on it, but it was the only one of the day and the Whopper had given me too much energy and confidence.  So I pushed my way on with the promise of the “best place to stay in Samoa” at our final destination.  Wam, slam, bang, backfire and away we go.  Every seat full, old ladies jostling from side to side on every lap, kids on every one of their laps.  Round the world backpack won’t fit so it is strapped to the back with a piece of piano wire and you stand in the aisle with two bars to hold onto and no headspace. The luggage posse hangs precariously off the side of the bus, leaning hard to avoid oncoming cars, hollering the whole way.

Americans pay top dollar for an amusement park roller coaster ride.  Samoans pay less than a dollar for the ride of a lifetime that lasts for about an hour.  Only a single rode circumnavigates this island, and it’s a windy son of a bitch. First stop, phew, people will be getting off here! Yeah right.  Three huge bunches of bananas, a stack of taro root, and 10 more people load up.  Your head starts to bang against the wood beam in the middle with every bump you hit.  The Christmas music (they listen to it year round) with club banger beats gets cranked up as the 16 year old driver puts the petal to the metal.  You hit the first corkscrew and 180 turn on the coaster and start to cough up the Whopper, but manage to hold it down.  2^nd stop, not 1, but 2 newborn babies get passed through the windows to complete strangers to hold because their mamas will have to stand on the bananas and hang out the windows.  Now we hit the fun part, the lava flows from the 1905 eruption, rough road, the bus sounds like it will blow apart as the driver simultaneously changes the radio to a Neil Diamond duet and smokes a cigarette.  Finally your stop!  Fa’a fetai (Thanks!) and Fa’a mole mole (Please!) get me the hell off this.  Maneuver through the sea of people and swing across the luggage blocking the door into the village.  Collect your bag, which looks like it had been towed down the road on its little airport wheels, vomit on the side of the road, drink some water and walk three miles to the resort.  Oh by the way, the resort was worth it!!!